


Rainbow's Aren't an Efficient Form of Travel

by orphan_account



Category: Leprechaun (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 12:33:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13740954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Just a book about random things I have created, yet with a darker side of angst never forgotten on any of the parts. Also, most words are made up, so go look at the dictionary/glossary I have posted to help you. Enjoy!





	Rainbow's Aren't an Efficient Form of Travel

Ali bent over her bloobon wood table, carefully using her small carpenter’s blade etched in breeno. She shaved the block of tirc carefully, her only guide the light of the two moons.  
Swirling her blade along the curves of the block, she finally sighed, blowing shavings off her hands and desk. The floor was littered in shavings as well, in a delicate circle around her stool.  
Standing up, Ali walked across the room, placing her blade back into her toolbox. Ali gazed out the window at the moons, watching the way their swirling patterns wove in the distance.  
The moons’ swirling was where Ali first started when she began woodworking. She always worked in moonlight, where those swirls were most visible. She had once heard a story from the town merchant about old woodworkers. They carved the moons into their projects, and eventually those objects would gain particular powers depending on the wood.  
Ali had tried every wood she could seek out. The forest near her house was dotted with thousands of varieties. Her favorite wood to work with was bloobon wood, the wood she carved her desk from. The magical properties of the desk were simply to neaten up itself and the space near it. Ali loved how she woke to a clean workspace. It gave her more time to search for new wood.  
Ali turned from the window, continuing to switch from her toolbox, to her desk, to the small cabinet in the back of the room. Once her tools were put away and she was on the first step to her bedroom, she stole one last glance at the moons. Gripping the railing tight, Ali tried to step to the next stair.  
But the longing for the moons stopped Ali’s foot mid air. Her eyes stayed fixed on the patterns of the first, slowly drifting to the second. Sighing, Ali squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the moonlight’s trance from her eyes. She reluctantly felt her feet move down that stair and back to her desk by the door.  
Ali had no more words than when she was working, and placed a shaky hand on the door. She couldn’t keep doing this: being put into a trance, almost leaving, stopping herself. But a thought sprouted in her brain.  
Maybe if I just go, the trance will stop.  
So gripping the sleeve of her overcoat, Ali turned the locks, twisted the doorknob and let the hinges swing the door open.  
At once, the crisp night air filled her senses, and Ali’s breath was taken away by the moons’ closer presence. Her longing to leave at night had kept away the boldness of the swirls, so with her tinted windows left behind, Ali walked briskly, yet calmly, up to her secret cliffside.  
Her shoes growing heavier with every step, Ali straightened her hat, ripping away her small leaf of reincree, snapping it in half and teleporting to the dark location of the cliff.

The scent of the icy herb filled her lungs, chilling her to the bone. Her vision blackened, her entire body freezing and still. Fighting back a scream, Ali remembered the pain of shadow travel. She had fought off the pain of leaving for so long, her body wasn’t used to such a cold spell.  
Sputtering and gasping for breath, Ali found herself sprawled out on the cave floor, her body shaking with cold. Many normal leprechauns advised reincree to not be used often, but the Nix users like Ali knew it was worth the pain.  
Standing on shaky legs, Ali rose slowly, her eyes drifting up to a brighter sky than she had seen in ages.  
Ali fought off the cold, shoving a hand into her front pocket of her coat and snatching a reekay leaf. She rolled it into a pulp and rubbed it on her face and hands, warming her skin and stopping her shaking.  
Finally still and moonlight in her breath, Ali walked to the edge of the cave, emerging into total calmness. Letting the moonlight wash over her, Ali turned off her disguise that she had cloaked. The truth was, Ali was a special type of leprechaun, one that was extinct, or so the others thought. Ali was the last Moon Nymph.  
Moon Nymphs were a creature that roamed alongside Leprechauns long ago. Ali’s father was a leprechaun, and her mother a moon nymph. There didn’t used to be such a conflict.  
Until the war.  
The war started when a moon nymph accidentally used a power from it’s materials on a leprechaun, killing it.  
The leprechauns had made it their mission to execute all of the moon nymphs. Ali’s mother had told her to stay put and taught her to cloak herself. Her mother had used her mirror’s effects to predict the slaughter, so she had taught Ali everything she knew. Ali’s carvings were known secret to the others except her parents, but they were long gone.  
On the night before the slaughter, Ali had just fastened her cloaking device on when her mother had walked in with her moon clothing off. In fact, she had appeared in sun nymph clothing.  
“Mother, where are you going?” Ali put down her training blade, quickly pressing the cloaking button on the side, turning it into a common chizel.  
“I have to go.” Ali’s mother didn’t look her in the eye, but the moonlight reflecting off her eyes shone sadness. “I’ve been training you hard, but the time of the slaughter has come.”  
Ali’s mother hugged her and placed a small yellow pebble into her hand.  
“It’s breeno,” Ali repeated. “The explosive herb.” Ali rubbed her finger around the small patterns of the stone. “Why?”  
Ali’s mother smiled. “It’s carved with the patterns of the moons. Use it to guide you as I once did.” Ali’s mother stood as tears threatened to spill over her eyes.  
“Be good for your father.” Ali’s mother let out a soft sob and snapped her leaf of reincree. At once, shadows consumed her figure, and Ali was alone.  
Ali’s father had never come home. Ali suspected that he had been caught and killed, as many knew his relationship with Ali’s mother. Ali had that small stone on her desk everyday for years after her mother had gone. She had received no word from her mother as expected, but it still felt wrong.

Ali pushed that memory out of her head and took her gaze away from the moons. Her eyes stung as she glanced again at the first moon, the swirling patterns of her stone. Ali remembered when she searched her father’s room for a last trace of her mother, only to find another yellow pebble with all the dots and dips of the second moon. Ali now knew the reason: the moons were now her parents, and their glows were only known to her. The first moon glowed a faint blue, and the second a yellow-green. Ali had tried to push her past away from her, with no luck. She was back here, in the cave, on the cliff, with the moons.  
Ali sighed, dropping her head in defeat. She would just have to life with her past. Still, she’d been away from this place so long. “I really thought I could do this. I really wanted to stop.”  
Picking herself up, Ali gazed at the second moon, the dotted and dented surface she barely looked at. She always found herself gazing at the swirls of her “mother moon”, but never found herself too interested in her “father moon”.  
Ali focused her eyes, and narrowing her vision like her mother once taught her, the moon was so much closer, She saw those dots growing, until they were dots of swirls and stripes. Ali now realized the complexity of her “father moon”, and realized how similar it was to her own father.  
Overwhelmed with grief, Ali slumped against the cliffside, her head in her knees and her slow sobbing echoing through the cave behind her.  
Ali had never been one for emotions. She barely ever talked after her parents had gone. But somehow grief was stronger than ever, and for once, she finally felt completely alone.

Ali made her way to the darkest part of the cave. Her throat was closed after all that sobbing, and her eyes were red and puffy from crying. Ali once more reached into her pocket and brought out her last leaf of reincree. She would have to gather some in the next night. Reincree only grew in moonlight, and dawn was breaking it’s way into the sky. However, not physically, of course, but somehow through the way the wind blew.  
Ali’s eyes had dried now, and she now was puzzled by her since of knowledge of the wind. Looking toward the East, she saw where the sun was rising. However, it wasn’t rising. It was still total darkness.  
Ignoring her strange feelings and accusing herself of just greif-crazy, Ali snapped her reincree and let the shadows consume her. With a numbing cold, Ali felt still, and despite the aching in her bones, Ali felt calm, like the shadows didn’t bother her anymore.  
Why would they, she thought, when all I have left is them.

Finally home, Ali shut the door softly behind her. Biting her lip, Ali quickly latched all seven chains. Stupid, she thought to herself. These were supposed to prevent me from leaving, but all they’ve done is upped my craving for moonlight. She silently cursed her mother for this horrible urge.  
Glancing at her neatened up desk, Ali sat slowly on her stool. Taking a deep breath, Ali reached for a small silver button behind the desk. Pressing it, Ali let herself grow still.  
The button silently beeped once, and a cloaking shimmer faded to reveal a small silver box. Ali picked up the box and placed it in her lap. She knew she shouldn’t, but she had never felt so alone.  
Rubbing her fingers around the edges of the box, Ali searched for a small latch. She hadn’t opened the box in so long, she had forgotten where the hidden latch was.  
Finally feeling a subtle prick on her searching fingers, Ali unlatched the box.  
It was as if the sun itself was in that box. Pure light streamed from the small container, warming Ali’s face and burning her eyes. Squeezing them shut, Ali let her eyes adjust before swinging the box wide open. The breeno stones felt heavy in Ali’s hands, almost growing in weight from the memories flooding back into her. These memories were thoughts she had pushed out long ago, feelings from a time of true emptiness.  
Remembering how it felt to be a child without anyone to guide her, Ali quickly put the stones back into the box and shut the latch. Cloaking the small box, Ali stood from her chair and walked to the bookshelves surrounding her cabinet. Grabbing a small velvet-covered book, Ali took a deep breath.  
The way Ali prefered forgetting her past was creating new herb mixtures. She could use them in multiple situations, and she needed more reincree anyways.  
Ali took out a few pinches of salt, and few frost weevils she had crushed up beforehand. Rolling them together into crunchy balls, Ali smooshed the mix into leaf shaped molds. Shutting the molds, Ali stuck them into the kiln and waited until the room smelled sweetly of sparkenflug. She took out the molds and popped out the leaves, running her fingers down the lines and cracks. Imperfections, she thought. Just like me.  
After the new herb had been pressed, Ali torched it with her green flames emitting from her fingertips, such a hot flame that it hardened the leaves into hard, blue tinted leaves. The reincree was created, and Ali’s small moment of work had ended, stealing her distraction and causing anxiety to flood through her bones.  
Ali took a deep breath and glanced at the finally rising sun. Double checking the locks on the door, Ali walked the steps to her upstairs bedroom. Although the moons were still shining their last rays, Ali had no trouble walking up the stairs.

Once Ali had reached her room and locked the three different code locks on it, she layed on her twisted wooden bed. Although she never slept, a bed was nice to sit on in careful carving occasions.  
Sprawled out and open, Ali began to take deep breaths as her father once taught her. “It’s okay,” she whispered to herself between breathes. “You’re important, you’re smart, you…” Ali trailed off before rising and walking to her tall mirror.  
“You’re wonderful,” she continued her voice growing into a small chant. “You’re loved, you’re okay…”  
Ali’s voice trembled with each word. “You are cared for, You’re never alone, you have yourself, you…”  
Ali’s voice finally wavered as she remembered the dangersof speaking into that mirror. Your emotions would become... well, mirrored. And with all the grief Ali was feeling, that was not a good thing.  
Ali's voice almost squeaked on the last words as the mirror began chipping away, sending a long crack down the mirror before the reflective surface altogether fell out from its wooden base and shattered to a halt on the cold floor.  
"You... Aren't okay." Ali collapsed into a heap on the floor and was set into a long cycle of sob, gasp for her breath, and shake the tears from her body in one uncomfortable fluid motion. It went on like this for several minutes, which turned to hours, which turned to nights.  
Every night would follow the same pattern, the sun rising, the grief, the tremendously shaking pain she endured so often. Ali felt weak daily, and her crafty and solid attitude caved into a dark and soft, frail little girl like the one she first was without her mother.


End file.
